Third Time's The Charm
by ToiletWater
Summary: Thirteen-centric. One-shot. Extremely long, spoilers for season 4 finale if you haven't seen it. Some times, the difference between Positive and Negative is no more than the difference between Optimism and Pessimism. Full summary inside.Rated T for safety


Title: Third Time's The Charm/The Difference

Summary: Thirteen-centric. One-shot. Extremely long, spoilers for season 4 finale if you haven't seen it. Some times, the difference between Positive and Negative is no more than the difference between Optimism and Pessimism. Most of the time, there's a middle ground. This time, however, it was the difference between "dead" and "alive". And for that, there is no middle ground.

Disclaimer: Where would the writers/creators of the show be getting time to write one-shot fanfictions?! They should be writing the next season, dammit!

A/N: I am going to be going a little more in-depth with this in case you want to see how it ends. There are three sections to it. The first and second are from actual episodes, but they've been extended and have my own input reguarding Thirteen...and, well, etc with that...and the third is my own imagination and knowledge reguarding Huntington's. Any information that implys, or bluntly states, facts about Thirteen or her past is just my own imagination. And I have probably screwed up a lot of lines, scenes, sections, what ever. Bare with me, I don't know every thing verbatim. But if there's some thing you can tell me, go ahead and I will try to edit. .

Enjoy

--

The first time she was tested, it was an accident. Or, well, it was on her part. She'd turned her back on her boss, leaving her quarter-empty water bottle right next to him. Of course, when it disappeared, she didn't think much of it. She had a hundred other things on her mind, and loosing things like water bottles isn't all that uncommon. No, it didn't cross her mind again- until the end of her shift the next day.

Thirteen walked into her office, and saw a long, white envelope on her desk- near a note from House that said "meet me in my office". She knew exactly what the envelope contained, and- for a second- all she did was stare at it in shock. She had never been filled with so much rage. She also had never been so tempted to find out- though there was no reason to admit it. If she didn't have it, life could continue as normal. In fact, better than normal. She wouldn't have to panic every time she dropped a file or had a bit too much caffeine.

But if she did...

Well, she didn't want to think about it. She picked the envelope up, tossed the note away, and wasted no time in getting to House's office. He was still there, of course- probably anticipating her being there.

"What the hell is this?" she asked, attempting to keep calm- and, for as angry as she felt, doing a damn good job of it.

"Looks like...an envelope." he said, as though beginning to mock her; "with the results of a genetic test for Huntington's inside." he held it up, but his grasp was weak- she noticed. "

"Did you look?!" she asked, sounding far more shocked than angry, though Thirteen was far more pissed off than any thing else.

"Thought it'd be fun to find out together." he replied, eyeing her and changing his position around.

"I don't _want _to know." she replied, sounding far too calm for her own good. At the moment, she wished she could just explode- or even more, just take him by the throat and throttle him. Hadn't she mentioned that she didn't want to know? Well, whether she had or not, it didn't matter. It should be obvious from the fact that she didn't get tested, and even if not- it was none of his business.

"No," he replied, glancing back towards her with a look that would intimidate the Hulk- at least, at this moment in time. When he held the information in his hand and could now do any thing with it that he wanted; "you're afraid to know. "

However, at the given moment, she used her anger to over-ride her fear. "I might die!" she snarled, sounding angry at this point. She wasn't going to tolerate this, and after working all day she didn't need to have to deal with this. "So could you! You could get hit by a bus tomorrow, the difference is that you don't have to know about it today so why should I?!" she added, spewing venom out with her words.

"I don't _have _to know the winning lottery numbers." House stated simply, as though this were no big deal. As though it were just some casualty that really didn't matter either way. God, she wanted to do such illegal things to him right now...the thing is, that would've made him happy. Reactions like that...made him happy. That was why she restrained; reminding herself of that helped her stay calm; "But if some one offered them to me, I would take them."

Didn't he understand that this was life or death?! "You spend your whole life...looking for answers." she began, the frustration building up into tensity and causing her to walk in around him, moving in just a bit closer as she spoke. Now, the tables were turned; "...because you think that maybe the next answer will mean some, maybe make you a _little _less miserable..." her outward attitude changed. Perhaps her insides did, too, but it was her ability to mask her emotions and even lead them on to be some thing else that she was thankful for in this kind of situation. Suddenly, however- she seemed compassionate; as though this information had just shifted into her head and, for what ever reason, she felt...maybe even a little bad for him. "..and you know that when you run out of questions, you don't just run out of answers. You run out of _hope_! Be glad that you know that." the look on his face told her he got the message, and that was all that needed to be said. So, with out saying any thing else, she simply turned and walked away. Of course, she knew that dying from Huntington's and getting hit by a bus were two extremely different things. But it was one of those things she didn't care to think about.

She didn't even care to bring the test results with her. If he knew, it would be fine- as long as she didn't have to know.

"Maybe I'll have fun just knowing by myself then." he mumbled seriously. Why not? No law against it. Not that he would care if there was. Sitting down, he slowly slipped open the envelope.

His completely uninterested face cleverly masked his shock as he realised...

he had been wrong.

Not that you can always tell what's happening to some one's brain just by looking at their outside, but- well- he attempted.

And he was never wrong.

Thirteen being the exception that proved the rule. He was only wrong with her.

And now, the black ink seemed to mock it to his face.

"Huntington's. Negative."

She didn't have it.

--

The second time she was tested, she tested herself. Not knowing had finally begun to get to her. House's comments and continuous annoyances about it were threatening to make her crazy, any ways. Five times, she went to place the needle in her arm and stopped. Twice, she actually placed it inside and plucked it out before drawing out the blood- using Amber's case or House needing her as an excuse to procrastinate. But there was nothing stopping her this time.

Thirteen took a deep breath as she finished tying the rubber around her arm. She promised herself that it wouldn't matter what the test said, that if she had it, it hadn't just appeared there, and she'd gotten here with it sitting right there. It hadn't stopped her yet. It shouldn't stop her now. Even so, it wasn't the needle pricking into her arm that hurt as much as the panic that sent static electricity through her body as she sat and stared at it- just for a second. This little bit of blood held the key to her reality- or, with Huntington's- her lack of reality. She sighed and wrung her hands gently. It was too late to turn back now. Mustering up the last of her courage, the young doctor faxed the blood in to be tested.

After the sadness and regret soaked in a bit, she stood and completely erased any evidence that she'd been here. If people knew, they would ask. And the one thing she wanted to do even less than she wanted to think about it was talk about it. Once that was completed, there was nothing to do but go home and rest. The results wouldn't be in for another 24 hours.

When she came in the next day, Amber was awake and House was being hospitalized for an acute partial seizure. Even after how long it seemed to have been, she wished she had longer until the test results came in. In fact, she wished she'd never sent for them in the first place. But, Thirteen knew, it was too late to go back now. Disguising her nerves as concern for their dying patient as she stood in the room with the rest of her workers, she softly stated;

"We should go say goodbye."

Of course, then she had to deal with listening to them argue over whether they should or not. Well, she decided to herself, she would go see her reguardless. Some thing about it was just tugging at her. Maybe because it was a distraction, maybe because it was a memory...maybe because Amber had some thing she so desperately needed right now. What ever it was, she didn't want to spend time analyzing. Any ways, Kutner had managed to help with her cause of convincing them all to go see her- even Foreman, much to her surprise.

Thirteen was the last one to enter. Every one's visit was short, but that was fine. She didn't have long, and probably wanted to spend it alone with Wilson as much as possible. She stopped at the end of the bed, just barely flinching at the memories it brought back. Momentarily, she considered how lucky Amber was- to be able to die in some one else's arms. But then, she considered Wilson...

...and remembered how her father took it when her mother died.

Gently, and almost instinctively as she struggled to push the memory out of her mind, she placed her hand on Amber's leg. "Are you comfortable?" she asked softly. The patient weakly nodded, and Thirteen gave her the closest look to a smile that she'd ever given any one. "Good." she thrummed out, gently stroking the limb over a short distance. Neither Amber nor Wilson seemed to mind much, though- which was good. "If you need any thing, just let some one know." she said, pausing. She still couldn't help but envy Amber just a little for having some one beside her. But she could tell how hard it was going to be on Wilson, and regretted herself that it was going to happen. Strange, considering that she didn't really care too much for Amber.

Some thing else tugged at her. Her glance turned even closer to a smile as she slowly shifted in towards her, and gave her a hug- making sure to be careful, as she didn't want to hurt her. The other female accepted it warmly, letting Thirteen know that it had at least been "okay" that she decided to come in and see her. The "session" abruptly ended, no "goodbye" as the young doctor didn't want to upset the other. The dying. She realised that it may be her in that hospital bed some day. Accept, that day, she would be alone- and there would be no reason to keep her alive. There was a strange freedom in the midst of that.

After leaving Amber and Wilson, she had some thing else she wanted to do. Maybe because it was a distraction and another excuse to procrastinate. Maybe because she actually, genuinely cared. It didn't matter at this point. She approached the door to House's room and, not surprisingly, was met by Cuddy- who'd apparently gone to get some supplies. Thirteen looked up at her, lacking emotion in the tone of her eyes.

"How is he?" she asked, miraculously keeping her voice from cracking.

"Better." Cuddy replied, gently grasping her hand. She didn't pull back. "His heart beat is stabilizing."

She raised her head again and nodded. "All right. Thanks. Let me know...if any thing happens."

The lady agreed and walked into the room, leaving the woman alone with her thoughts. There wasn't much left to do now but wait. With out any warning, she stepped back into the small lab on the other side of the hospital, and sat down in front of the fax machine.

Within a few moments, the white piece of paper drilled out of the machine. After it was all the way out, she grasped it quickly and looked at it. Bright red ink glared up at her.

"Huntington's. Positive".

There was no word in any language to describe how she felt. Her brain even stopped dead for a second. Every thing left her focus.

Angrily, she crumpled the paper up and tossed it in the trash. She'd told herself it didn't matter, but that was before the test came out positive.

"Positive". She'd hate that word until she died from it.

--

The third time, was unexpected, but it certainly wasn't an accident. It was months after the results came back as positive, and she'd broken her ankle due to a dizzy spell which she eagerly blamed on Huntington's developing in her brain. Of course, Thirteen knew that this was just a matter of time. Just a matter of time before chorea took away her right to live as a normal human being and dementia began to control her reality. And now that she was laying in a hospital bed, dying from a cause that every one else considered "unknown", that reality sunk in deeply.

Just weeks ago, House had been permitted to work again. In fact, he was the doctor on her case. His jibes at her having or not having Huntington's as he didn't know she'd tested herself, as far as she knew, remarkably, had no effect on her. She didn't react. All she did was glare back at him. All he wanted was the answer. It didn't matter to her if he knew or not. But she wasn't going to be the one to tell him.

But there's a final straw for every thing. For Thirteen, it was when she heard their discussion going on out side her door about how it could be Huntington's. Kutner had stated the possibility, possibly based on the time he'd been there when House called her "Huntington's". Damn nickname.

"It's not Huntington's, dammit!" House shouted, before slamming back into her hospital room. He didn't say any thing, just looked at her demeaningly. Of course.

She let her head go back as she swallowed, desperately wishing to rid herself of the lump in her throat. It had been getting harder to swallow, another quality she eagerly attributed to Huntington's. Sadly, she wondered how long she had before it fully began to develop.

"House," she muttered, turning her head over to face his. "..I tested myself for Huntington's a few months ago. I tested positive." she told him, her voice thin and raspy- maybe from not having really slept well in so long. Since the results came up as "positive", she hadn't slept much at all.

He just sat down, and stared at her for a second. "That's why I normally test more than once."

"What?" she asked, utterly confused by the statement.

"We'll have to test you again to be sure. The results I ran on you were negative."

To that, she didn't reply. Her shoulders just relaxed and she stared up at the ceiling. Now was her chance, she realised, to go back to being blissfully unaware. To not ever knowing any thing, to it being an ever-open question that she wouldn't have to know until it came. But, truth be told, "blissfully unaware" wasn't always all that blissful. She still worried over it, still paniced about it, still spent nights awake over it. She was already living as though she had it, keeping people at bay "just in case", never wanting to hurt any one the way her mother had so deeply wounded her. It wouldn't matter, she decided, as the doctor spoke again;

"Do you..._want_...to be tested again?"

Thirteen nodded and extended her arm. House was surprisingly gentle with taking blood, it hurt even less than when she'd done it to herself. And when he was done, she just looked up at him. Part of her wanted to thank him. The other part didn't want to speak too soon. She gently laid her face off to the side of the pillow, and he walked out of the room. With out realising it, she'd just given him a silent "thank you". And with out realising it, he'd given her a silent "see you later".

The next 24 hours were pure torture. Not because she needed to know, but because all the painful memories between her and her mother kept coming back to haunt her.

_"I hate you!"_

_  
"Did you really think I wanted a child like you?! Worthless little bitch!"_

_"You're so stupid- thinking some thing like that would matter!"_

"I'll meet you in hell...after all, that's where people like you and I belong."

The fact that her mother had lost her mind to dementia made it possible to forgive. It was why she forgave, and why she kept on forgiving. But it didn't keep it from hurting. And it didn't keep "I always wanted to be a doctor" from being the only words her mother ever spoke to her as a sane woman.

The next evening, House walked in with the enveloped test results and placed them on her stomach. "No matter what that test says...Huntington's effected you." he grumbled.

She reached her hands down and grabbed it. "What?" she asked simply; since being admitted to the hospital, it was also getting harder to talk.

"It's already killed you. " he replied. "Walled you off from every one around. Kept you in misery and fear and panic your whole life. Implanted pains into you that were never supposed to be there in the first place. In fact, whether you carry the gene or not, Huntington's has dictated your whole life. Just because you didn't get tested. That's an awfully stupid thing to do."

Ah, House. Forever blunt. She didn't say any thing to that in reply, she just stared at him tiredly and swallowed. Then, she picked up the envelope and took out the test results, her hands weakly struggling to open it.

House watched her expression with interest. After about 45 seconds, he simply said; "So you have it."

And she placed the results paper face down, looked at him, and gave him the closest look to a smile than she ever had before. "Wrong again, House. The test...says...negative." never before had she felt such relief. Within minutes, Thirteen was asleep.

--

A/N: Well? Did you enjoy it? If you'd like, send me a review! If this fanfiction inspires you to write your own, feel free to use quotes from here or even reference it, and hell- send it to me! I'd be happy to read it. I don't know if you noticed, but the ending is a little open. You can kinda decide whether she had it or if House just switched her test results out with some one else's- which, while extremely illegal, is not some thing you could put past him. I'd prefer to think she doesn't have it, though.


End file.
